


so romantic on the borderline

by orphan_account



Series: spacin' out [2]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: College, Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M, Post-Series, Slice of Life, nontraditional students
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:35:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22024210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Hey. Are you really thinking about this?”“The garlic bread? All day, actually.”
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Series: spacin' out [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1585294
Comments: 6
Kudos: 46





	so romantic on the borderline

**Author's Note:**

> "college" is becoming more of a chill backdrop of vague majors and endless time to themselves bc im just a sap!!!! next installment will have way more sleeplessness and stressed source citing  
> title from Vienna by Billy Joel  
> [tumblr](http://katsofmeer.tumblr.com/)

“Does it bother you we never went to college?” asks Alex.

“What?” Michael rolls out from under the Toyota he was working on to boggle at him. “I asked what you wanted for dinner babe.”

“I know, I just--”

“And like, a tuition is a little more than tacos like I was thinking.”

“--thinking and I realized it did and I want--”

“Unless you want Italian again.” Michael sits up, wipes his hands. Stops. “Wait are you serious?”

“Actually I have been craving garlic bread.” Alex looks up from his laptop.

“Alex.” Michael walks to him, resting a hip at the work table which Alex has been typing at for the last hour. He peeks at the screen, just manages to scope the words _scholarship_ and _campus_ before Alex closes it. Michael grabs one of his hands. “Hey. Are you really thinking about this?”

“The garlic bread? All day, actually.” Alex’s mouth quirks so Michael waits him out. “I don’t know. It was just a thought.”

“Uh-huh.” With Michael, that might be true. With Alex, just a thought meant he’d calculate every angle and ruminate on it for six weeks before speaking.

-

New Mexico Tech is smallish, but solid. Alex is weirdly cagey as they wait for their response letters, dropping comments that _obviously_ Michael is going to get in, but if Alex needs to do a couple years at a community college it’s fine, totally fine.

Michael rolls his eyes with flourish. “Mm, yeah, sure.”

“It is.” Alex drinks his coffee, left knee bouncing, definitely not refreshing his email for the thirty-thousandth time in a row.

“Babe. You’re in. It’s a fucking guarantee, and if it weren’t, you could hack ‘em and add your name to the little list. Which,” Michael rolls up lazily from the couch to walk behind Alex, teasing out some of the stress from his shoulders with a rough grip, “is actually so impressive and sexy that they’d be forced to admit you anyway.” He drops a kiss to the crown of Alex’s grumpy head.

“You’re being over dramatic, Guerin--fuck, _shit_ , it’s here, it’s here!” Alex elbows him in haste to sit up straight, cursor hovering over the email.

Michael spins him in the stool to face him eye-to-eye. “Alex. Listen to me.” And he takes a moment to marvel at his boyfriend, the bravest person he knows, who won’t flinch for gunfire or certain death, but can’t string a sentence together when the really important shit comes up. Like for Michael. Or for this, which Michael may not understand why, he really, really wants. “No matter what that says, I want you to know…” Alex’s dark eyes search his, breath held, nervous little frown on his lips. “I’ll give you a blowjob either way.”

“Jesus, Michael, shut _up_.” Alex spins away from him while Michael laughs, head thrown back.

-

Michael hates pretty much all the undergrads, because they’re too smart and too stupid for their own good, and remind him too much of himself a decade ago. Most of the profs are great and one day he’s gonna force Alex to go golfing with him. The work itself is either mind numbingly easy or interesting, exciting and new, something that gets his heart racing and mind chasing a good idea.

But the best part has gotta be this: waking up to Alex in his bed, in his arms. In their place. Expensive as shit textbooks tossed carelessly between their sheets. Michael kisses both of Alex’s bare shoulder blades. Gentle clean detergent scent, his skin soft and freckled across his back. Michael can feel him as he wakes, toes stretching under the blankets, quiet sigh sinking into his pillow.

“You know what,” says Michael. Every syllable and touch is achingly careful; this moment held between a glassblower’s hands, delicate and expanding.

“Wha,” comes the mumble reply, Alex’s face still half-tucked into his elbow.

“I think we should play hooky and stay in bed all day.”

Alex gasps with effect. “Michael we are two grown adults with errands to run and laundry to do--we’re too responsible to ever do that--”

“Mmm.” Michael kisses down Alex’s neck, biting at the nape with a smile--Alex’s breath hitches sharply, then smooths out, his whole body melting into the mattress.

“ _Without_ ,” he stresses, turning in Michael’s arms to grin and kiss at his chin, “also ordering pizza.”

“ _Mmm_ , that’s why you’re the Captain.” Alex’s laughter is syrupy, rich and sweet, and Michael’s skin scorches, his heart on fire.

-

Keys land with a rattle in their dish by the door. Michael’s pulling his jacket off, too pissed to even manage that. 

“I’m just saying,” he continues, following Alex to the bedroom, fighting against his own sleeves. “I don’t know how you want me to control someone else’s schedule.”

Alex sets his bag down, slowly, calmly. He’s standing at the open closet, one long line of tension from head to toe. “You’re right Michael, obviously. It’s fine.” 

Oh, boy.

“Okay. Good.” Michael gets as far as brushing his teeth for the night before Alex is leaning against the wall, staring at him in the mirror. Usually they elbow each other for space at the sink and Alex groans when Michael hacks around his toothbrush just to disgust Alex, laughing until he chokes on minty foam. Tonight, Alex waits his turn with icy patience. Michael spits, meets Alex’s eyes in their reflection. “I’m sorry, okay? It was shitty.”

Alex _mmm’s_ softly, without so much as a blink. “Are you done?”

“Jesus Alex.”

“In the bathroom, I meant. So I can,” he gestures vaguely, pushing his way into Michael’s space. Not in the usual, welcome way, but with cautious, necessary movements. 

“Fucking fine.” 

Tension follows Michael out into the bedroom as he listens to the water run and Alex brush his hair. It’s growing out--Alex keeps saying he needs to get it cut, but Michael hopes enough positive reinforcement will encourage him to keep it long.

Michael starts to tear their made bed apart for sleep, tossing their decorative pillows to the floor because he knows it irritates Alex. 

“I’m just saying, it was like an hour. Don’t be pissed.” He raises his voice enough to be heard over the running water, half wondering if he should invest in salon scissors and learn to cut hair himself like Izzy did for him.

Alex emerges, haunting the door frame. “Over an hour,” his voice is low, eyes missile-locked onto Michael’s. “And I’m not.”

Clarity reigns: he's not squirming out of this fuck up unscathed. Michael boils over, just a little. “No, you’re worse. You’re nothing, you’re a fucking glacier and you know I hate it when you get like this.”

“Oh?” That’s poked a reaction; Alex moves to the opposite side of the bed to help turn down the sheets roughly. “I’m so sorry, did I disappoint you tonight, Guerin?”

“Shut up with that shit--”

“Because I can’t imagine what _that_ feels like.”

“I was _working_ \--”

“--someone else’s project needed your help, and--” Alex is fucking pissed, really and truly, and it’s dangerous to keep pushing him but Michael literally cannot help himself. 

“--and you never mind when I work late!” Now they’re properly yelling, Michael gesturing harshly with the round pintuck pillow.

“Not when you drop me across town all night!” 

“An hour! Jesus, I’ll pack you a book next time.”

“--and then fucking _leave_ me--oh, yeah, thank you, and a fucking juice box while you’re at it--"

“Well if you’re gonna act like a little kid.” 

“You’re right, Michael. You’re always so right, it’s my fault that this other person’s laser whatever--”

“Okay, you _know_ it’s about magnetic domain wall motion control, I know you know that.”

“--is obviously more important than me!”

They breathe into the silence. Sheets pulled back. Clock radio on the nightstand murmuring a 90’s ballad. Alex looks down first, sitting on the bed with his back to Michael. He sets his cane against the nightstand and rubs absentmindedly at his thigh, the way he does when the muscle gets overworked. In an instant Michael’s stomach free-falls, all the fight drains out of him.

Michael’s brain helpfully replays a reel of Alex, earlier, on the street, pacing up and down. The trees downtown were bright with lights, shops glowing green and red for the holidays. Alex wanted to do some shopping for a couple hours while Michael got his hands dirty in the shop, and fuck but he honestly did forget that most of the shops would be closing by the time Alex had asked him to come back and--okay, fuck, he did feel bad, pulling up late next to Alex, trudging awkwardly with bags in one hand on the sidewalk. But Alex could have _called_ , could have fucking _texted_ , he’s not a damn mind reader like his sister but--Michael sees Alex's outrage clearly, now, ashamed it took him quite so long to pick up on everything Alex can never say aloud.

He crawls across the bed, wading through the uncomfortable thickness in the air. Michael settles against Alex’s back, pressing a hesitant kiss to the nape of his neck. 

“Hey,” he says, arms encircling Alex slowly, giving him time to pull away. Alex remains tense but still. “I’m sorry. I am. Even when I’m being an annoying piece of shit, baby, you should know. Ain’t nothing more important than you.”

Alex settles a hand over Michael’s. “I know that. I know that, I do.”

“And I mean, even when you’re being an annoying piece of shit. Still applies.” Michael can sense the eye roll on a deep, spiritual level, doesn’t need to see it to know. He tightens his arms for a second, kissing Alex’s neck again, just soft, chaste kisses. “But that’s okay. I love you. Even though you made me chase you eight fucking blocks.” He kisses the crook of Alex’s neck and massages the muscle spasms in his upper thigh.

“And I love you,” Alex turns, smiling, annoyed and annoying and still perfect. “Even when you’re a fucking asshole.”

“God, you say the sweetest things.” And then they’re laughing for real and Michael properly pulls Alex into bed.

-

“Is this the college experience you always dreamed of?” They’re lying in the grass, at a park just barely off campus, watching the stars and passing a joint back and forth. Michael likes this. A lot. With his whole body, he loves the itch of green along his forearms and neck. Alex’s heat a bright stripe along his side, the sensation of Alex’s ribs expanding into his own. The dizzy, fresh feeling of identifying the stars overhead.

Alex grins, a real, wide, joyous grin. Rare and vibrant butterflies, French museums, the sun casting itself across the horizon--nothing Michael can think of holds more beauty than this.

“So far, it’s wildly exceeded expectations.”


End file.
